Lamentation

  I took a deep breath. He knew much, then, but not that Elias had been murdered or that Lord Parr had Myldmore in custody. There were four missing men, not six. I said, ‘So you, too, are seeking Greening’s murderer?’

  He leaned forward, linking his hands. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘I am looking for a book. An important book to me, and perhaps to her majesty the Queen.’

  A book. One book. But I had learned from Myldmore there were two – the Lamentation and the Examinations of Anne Askew. And the Examinations spoke of Rich’s torture of her. What if he did not know about the Lamentation? ‘A book by Anne Askew,’ I ventured. ‘About her time in the Tower?’

  Rich leaned back. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘We have it out in the open. Yes, the lies and ravings of that wretched woman. So you know about it. How?’

  ‘I spoke to the apprentice Elias before he disappeared, and he told me Greening had it,’ I lied. ‘Tell me, was it because of that book that your men attempted to break into Greening’s premises before he was murdered?’

  Rich frowned. ‘Where did you get that information from? Oh, the boy Elias, I would guess. Yes, those two were trying to break in and retrieve Askew’s writings, but they were disturbed. And shortly after someone else killed Greening.’

  ‘How did you know Greening had it, Sir Richard?’

  ‘The gaoler Myldmore. Who has disappeared as well now. He knew certain things about Anne Askew’s time in the Tower, never mind how, and I had him followed.’

  ‘By Stice?’ I asked.

  ‘No, it was Gower. You wouldn’t think it to look at him, but following people surreptitiously is something he excels at. And he reported back that Myldmore had called on Greening, with a small satchel on his shoulder that was full when he went in and empty when he came out.’

  ‘I see.’

  Rich shifted in his chair. ‘I had Anne Askew questioned again she was out of the Tower then, held in a private house under my watch until the day of her burning. She readily admitted she had written a scurrilous account of her time in the Tower, accusing me and Wriothesley of torturing her, among other things, and had it smuggled out. She would not say how, or to whom it was delivered. But she did not need to; having Myldmore followed had given me the answer to that.’ Rich frowned and a muscle in his jaw twitched. ‘She laughed in my face, cackled triumphantly that she had got her writings out of the Tower.’ His voice rasped angrily. ‘Oh, Anne Askew loved nothing more than to be the one to have the last word. I wondered if she might say something awkward at the burning; there was a moment when I thought she might, but then – ’

  He paused, and I ended his sentence, ‘The gunpowder exploded. I remember.’

  ‘Yes, I saw you there.’

  ‘What is it you fear she might have said, and written, Sir Richard?’ I asked quietly.

  ‘Things about me. And about another. All lies, but in these days of heretic propaganda – ’

  ‘If you knew Greening had those writings, why did you not have him arrested? And Myldmore?’

  ‘It was better dealt with as a private matter,’ Rich answered shortly. I thought, that is why he is frightened, the King is already angry with him for torturing Anne Askew to obtain information about the Queen, and he fears that if it becomes public knowledge it would be the end of his career. It was clear he knew nothing of the Lamentation, thank goodness.

  Confidence returned to his voice again. ‘Of course, just as I have concerns about Anne Askew’s writings being discovered, so – since she employed you – must the Queen. Perhaps Anne Askew wrote something about her own connections with her majesty or her radical friends.’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘But the Queen matters nothing to me now.’

  ‘Sir Richard, I can hardly believe that. When you and Wriothesley have spent the last several months trying to entrap her, no doubt at the bidding of Bishop Gardiner.’

  ‘Gardiner’s plan failed,’ Rich said bluntly. ‘It depended on finding evidence against the Queen and none was discovered, as you no doubt know. The King warned us at the start that we must bring him firm evidence: he was annoyed with her for lecturing him, but he still loves the woman. Now he is angry with all those involved, and the Queen is back in favour. I have no more interest in whether she is a heretic or not.’

  ‘So,’ I began. ‘It remains important to you to find Anne Askew’s writings. You are interested in saving your own position. Perhaps even your skin.’

  ‘Who does not want to do that?’ A threatening tone had entered his voice. ‘The Queen does, I am sure, and as you are involved, now my guess is that there are things in Askew’s writings that could still endanger her.’

  I did not answer. Rich sighed, then continued wearily. ‘It is only the Askews and Gardiners of this world who would risk their lives over such questions as the nature of the Mass.’ He pointed a finger at me. ‘Working to preserve himself before all else is what any man endowed with reason does. You are right, Master Shardlake, I want to ensure I am safe, just as the Queen does. I have reached a dead end trying to find these missing people. I think you have, too. I have a spy at the docks, and from what he tells me, others are also there, watching for someone trying to get books out. Those people I suspect are working for the Queen.’ Again I did not answer. ‘I have limited resources, as do you,’ he went on in an irritated tone. ‘My suggestion is that the Queen and I work together to recover Askew’s book.’ He gave a bitter little laugh. ‘There have been stranger alliances these last fifteen years.’

  ‘I cannot forget the outcome when last I made a bargain with you,’ I said finally. ‘You tried to kill me.’

  He shrugged. ‘Oh, I would like you dead, have no doubt. But larger matters are involved. I offer you limited cooperation for a specific end. And you have the Queen’s direct protection, of course.’

  I sat back. ‘I would need a little time to consider.’ My feelings about Rich were violent; a mixture of disgust, loathing, and complete distrust. And yet I confess I also felt a certain pleasure sitting there dealing with him on equal terms for the first time, and pleasure, too, at the fact that I knew more than he did. And, in terms of reason, Rich was right. His proposition made sense. Furthermore, working with him would give me the opportunity to try and prevent the worst from happening – that he might get hold of the Lamentation as a by-product of retrieving Anne Askew’s writings. For that was truly explosive material. This time, it would be me playing a double game with Rich.

  He said, ‘You mean, you need time to consult the Queen’s people. Yes, I understand that.’

  ‘You realize Anne Askew’s book may already have been smuggled out of the country, to be printed abroad.’ And the Lamentation, I thought, but did not say.

  ‘I think not.’ Rich leaned back again, interlacing his fingers. ‘You know of John Bale? Currently residing in exile in Antwerp?’

  ‘By reputation.’

  ‘The main publisher of heretical books in English. A likely destination for this trash, you agree?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘John Bale has been watched, for some time, by agents of the King. Secretary Paget is in charge of that, but I am among the Privy Councillors who see the reports. We would have liked him arrested by the Emperor Charles’s authorities and burned, as William Tyndale was a decade ago. But the Emperor’s authority is weak in Antwerp now. We can only watch. And it is known that Bale is expecting a consignment. It is not there yet, or at least it was not two days ago, the date of the last report.’

  ‘I see.’ That tied in with what Hugh Curteys had told me, too. ‘Where does Lord Chancellor Wriothesley fit into this?’

  ‘He leaves the hard work to me. As people do.’

  ‘Who leads your men? Is it Stice?’

  ‘Yes. He has a distant family connection, one of those innumerable young gentlemen who seek a place at court. I watch for those with brains who do not mind getting their hands dirty, too. Gower is one of his lackeys.’

  ‘Gower seems a little – unstable.’

&nbsp
; ‘Stice assures me he is totally loyal to him, as he seems to be. And one must trust one’s subordinates to some extent, or one would go mad, would one not?’

  ‘True.’

  ‘If we find Anne Askew’s book, I want it agreed that it be destroyed unread.’ He spoke slowly and clearly, as if to prevent any misunderstandings.

  I nodded. ‘I have no problem with that being agreed.’ And there I had the advantage over Rich, knowing that there was nothing in it that implicated the Queen. I did not care what happened to it one way or the other. I had already decided I would recommend the Queen to make this temporary agreement with Rich. But I would watch him like a hawk. I was certain that, had I not kept this appointment, Rich would have killed Nicholas. And I would never have known who had done it.

  ‘I will consider what you have said. With the Queen’s people.’

  He nodded. ‘I thought you would.’

  I smiled grimly. ‘You have not done well these last few years, have you, Sir Richard? Those allegations of corruption when you were in charge of finance during the war? And now months of working for Gardiner and Wriothesley to help bring down the Queen, only for it to end in your total failure. I thought you did not seem your usual confident self at the burning.’

  He had spoken civilly up to now, as one grown man negotiating with another, but now he glared and wagged a lean finger at me. ‘The Queen may have ridden this storm, Shardlake, but do not be too confident all will go the reformers’ way from now on. I offer cooperation on a specific issue, for a limited time. Tell that to your masters, and please remember when you speak to me in future that I am a Privy Councillor.’ He frowned. Rich had lost his composure with me and I could see he regretted it. I thought, when he said the reformers should not be too confident he can only have been referring to whatever new plot the traditionalists were hatching, the one Lord Parr said was afoot. The one plot in which Bertano – whoever he was – might be involved. But I dared not mention that.

  I stood, making an ironic little bow. ‘How do I get back in touch with you?’

  ‘A note to this house will reach me. Stice will stay here for now, though he thinks the place beneath him.’

  ‘One last thing, Sir Richard. You know that Stephen Bealknap is dead.’

  ‘Yes. I am his executor.’

  ‘His plans to have a monument erected to himself have been refused by Lincoln’s Inn.’

  He shrugged. ‘I heard.’

  ‘Sir Richard, did you ask Bealknap to try and get into my good graces? Last autumn?’

  Rich looked genuinely puzzled. ‘Why would I do that? Besides, I had ceased instructing Bealknap by then. His health was starting to become unreliable.’

  I looked at him. He had appeared genuinely surprised. Whatever Bealknap had been doing, it did not seem to have involved Rich. Then again, Rich was a consummate liar.

  ‘Reply to me tomorrow, please, Master Shardlake, we do not have much time.’ He stood in turn. ‘Now, you can go and collect that rogue Barak, and that long streak of piss, and get out.’

  STICE AND GOWER stood by as the three of us left the house. I knew that for Nicholas, and probably Barak, to leave thus meekly must feel like a defeat. I must get to Whitehall, I thought.

  We walked along Thames Street, the city deserted after curfew. Windows were open this warm night, squares of candlelight flickering in the dark. A berobed city official walked past, his way along the dusty street lit by link-boys carrying torches.

  ‘That constable must have been offered a large bribe,’ Barak said angrily. ‘One that only someone like Rich could afford. Christ’s bowels, if I ever find myself alone with that Stice I’ll have his balls. He has a scoffing wit. He told me Lord Rich told him I once worked for Lord Cromwell; he asked was it true Cromwell picked all his men off the streets, instead of using proper gentlemen.’

  ‘And that other churl,’ Nicholas said, ‘his wits are awry. Some of the things he said – ’

  I looked at the boy, his face a mass of bruises. ‘I am sorry,’ I said quietly. ‘I did not know we were dealing with Rich. He will stop at nothing.’

  Nicholas looked at me. ‘That was truly him? The Privy Councillor?’

  ‘Ay,’ Barak said angrily.

  ‘I knew he had a bad reputation.’

  ‘We’ve crossed swords with him before,’ Barak said. ‘He should have been hung a dozen times.’ He turned to me, and burst out, ‘What the fuck did he want you for?’

  I laughed bitterly. ‘To suggest we work together, believe it or not. Nicholas, I should not say more in front of you. It is not safe.’

  ‘Am I to have my life threatened and simply accept it?’ Nicholas answered hotly. ‘To have no justice against those rogues?’ I thought, he is foolhardy but, by God, he has courage to speak so, after what must have been a terrifying captivity.

  ‘He has a point,’ Barak muttered.

  ‘I may not say any more, Nicholas, without breaking a promise and nor will I give you information which could be dangerous to you. I’ve already told Jack far more than I should.’ I hesitated, then added, ‘Did they hurt you much?’

  ‘Apart from knocking me over the head? That Gower beat me when I tried to fight them after I awoke. But what manner of man in my position would not fight back? Then they said if I kept quiet and waited I would come to no harm. I had no option.’ His voice trembled slightly, and I realized he had been more frightened than he would admit. ‘Tell me this at least,’ he asked. ‘Did they use my life as a bargaining counter? Did they make you give them something in exchange for it?’

  ‘No, please be reassured, Nicholas. Rich merely used you as bait to make me come to him. In fact, I got the best of that encounter.’

  ‘I am glad of that at least.’

  ‘How is the wound on your chest?’

  ‘Healing well. But I should bathe these cuts.’

  ‘Then go back to your lodgings directly.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Nicholas, when you came to work for me you did not expect to be attacked or to be held prisoner by murderous rogues. It might be better if I were to transfer you to another barrister. With the best of references, I promise.’

  To my surprise he laughed. ‘This is more interesting than the law!’ I shook my head, remembering how some young gentlemen loved adventure, had been brought up to think it noble. Even his recent experiences had not knocked that out of him.

  We parted at the head of Thames Street. ‘So what happened?’ Barak asked, when Nicholas had gone.

  I told him. He stroked his beard. ‘This is quite some game of hoodman blind we are playing. What will you do now?’ he asked.

  ‘Go to the palace, try to see Lord Parr, late as it is.’

  ‘I would have thought you’d had enough for one day.’

  ‘I must tell them about Rich immediately. What I said to Nicholas applies to you too, Jack,’ I added. ‘I think perhaps you should both walk away now.’

  He shook his head. ‘Not after this. My blood’s up.’

  ‘Your pride, rather. What about all you said earlier? What about Tamasin?’

  He frowned. ‘My wife doesn’t rule me.’

  ‘Jack – ’

  ‘I want to see this through. Besides,’ he added more quietly, ‘you need someone. You haven’t anyone you can trust, none of those people at court cares what happens to you. What happens to my job if you get killed?’

  ‘The Queen – ’ I remonstrated.

  ‘Her first loyalties are to her family,’ he countered impatiently, ‘and to the King, for all that she fears him. You need people you can really trust. I’m sure you can trust Nick, too, you know. And he’s useful. Think about it.’

  He turned and walked away homewards. There was a spring in his step now. He had been torn between his current life and his old ways, I realized, and the encounter had changed the balance for him. Barak’s taste for adventure had won out, as it had so easily for Nicholas. I shook my head, and walked down to the river to find a wherry going upriver to Whitehall. br />
  Chapter Thirty

  I SAT IN LORD PARR’S OFFICE AGAIN. It was late, well past midnight. Whitehall Palace was dark and silent, everyone asleep apart from the guards ceaselessly patrolling the corridors. Lit only by dim candlelight, all the gorgeous decoration was in shadow, hidden.

  Lord Parr was still working in his office when I arrived; his room brightly lit with fat buttermilk candles, the shutters closed. He had called for William Cecil, who arrived within minutes; he must have been staying at the palace. After I told them the story of my encounter with Rich, Lord Parr sent for the Queen; she had been with the King that evening but had returned to her own bedchamber. ‘She must be consulted,’ he insisted. ‘This comes so near to her person.’

  Sitting behind his desk while we waited, Lord Parr looked exhausted. ‘Richard Rich, eh?’ He shook his head and smiled wearily, the old courtier in him perhaps amused by this turn of the political screw.

  ‘I thought Rich might be behind all of it,’ I said. ‘The murders and the taking of the book. But it seems not so, not this time.’

  ‘But if he gets hold of the Lamentation—’ Cecil began.

  ‘Yes,’ Lord Parr replied. ‘He would use it. The campaign against the Queen could revive.’ He looked between us. ‘Well, you know the saying: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Let us work with Rich, and keep him close.’

  There was a gentle knock at the door. Mary Odell and the Queen’s sister, Lady Herbert, stood in the doorway, bearing candles. They stepped aside to allow the Queen to walk into the room between them. Like the others she was dressed informally, in a gold-and-green caftan; there had been no time for the long labour with pins and corsets necessary for her to be dressed fully. Her auburn hair was tied back under a knitted hood. Under hastily applied whitelead, her face was tense. We bowed to her, my back suddenly stiff after the long day. She dismissed her ladies.

  ‘What news?’ she asked without preliminaries. ‘Please, tell me my book is found.’